


A Bit of Home

by AchillesMonkey



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Autism Spectrum, Autistic Character, Autistic Fitz, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, autistic shutdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchillesMonkey/pseuds/AchillesMonkey
Summary: Written for Team Engineering's Fitz's Birthday Wish List. Based on the prompt: A visit with his MumTakes place pre-season two.





	A Bit of Home

Fitz sat on the couch in the common room. A single lamp was on, giving him just enough light to see. It was late. Everyone else was in bed. Fitz should be in bed too, but he wasn’t. 

Everything was different. Everything had changed. Fitz didn’t like change. They’d turned his old lab on the Bus into a garage without even asking him. Now he had to work in a new lab. With people he didn’t know. Without Simmons. ‘Cause Simmons had left without even asking him. 

She’d stayed through his birthday, and then she’d told him she was going away for awhile—to see her parents. Fitz understood why she wanted to see them; but he didn’t understand why she couldn’t—wouldn’t—take him along too. They’d begun visiting each other's families together while they were still going to the Academy. He liked visiting her parents. Nothing ever changed at the Simmons’ house. And Glasgow was a lot closer to Sheffield than it was to America.

Homesickness rushed over him like a tidal wave. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision, and he pressed his arm against his eyes as he began to cry quietly. He wanted to go to Glasgow. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his bedroom that hadn’t changed since he left at 16 because his Mum knew better than to change anything without asking, and he wanted to see the park he’d played at as a child with the climbing frame where he’d spent so many hours pretending he was a monkey. Most of all, though, he wanted to see—

A mug was placed on the coffee table in front of him. Fitz swiped his arm across his eyes and looked up to see May standing next to the couch, holding her own mug.

“I want my mum,” he blurted out, and he didn’t care if he sounded like a child. “Simmons—Simmons went to see her parents; I want to go see my mum.”

“Okay,” was all that May said.

Fitz gaped at her. “Okay?” he echoed, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

“Okay,” May repeated. “I’ll make arrangements.”

Fitz picked up the mug, not quite believing that she actually would follow through. May typically meant what she said, but Fitz still didn’t want to get his hopes up only to be disappointed. He took a sip and found that it was tea, exactly as sweet as he preferred. “Thank you.”

~*~*~*~

Several days later, Fitz was on a plane to Scotland. May came too, which he thought would bother him, but it turned out he didn’t mind the company. 

“Too bad we couldn’t use the—the Bus,” he commented not long after takeoff. “We’d get there faster and more—erm—more com—comfor—more—” he stopped, unable to get the word out.

“Yes, the Bus would be more comfortable,” May agreed, “but we can’t use it until we figure out the cloaking.”

Fitz tapped his fingers against the armrest as his insides twisted in a guilty reminder of his failures. “I’ve almost got it. I just—I just need more—more time.” He sighed and dug around in his backpack for his headphones.

~*~*~*~

It had been decided that Mum wouldn’t meet them at the airport for safety reasons. Fitz was rather glad for that because he knew there would be no way to stop from crying as soon as he saw her, and it was less embarrassing to cry in the privacy of his childhood home. Those walls had seen plenty of tears from both of them over the years.

They took a taxi from the airport. Fitz fidgeted in his seat the entire ride, legs bouncing, fingers tapping, eyes looking out all the windows as they passed by familiar and unfamiliar landmarks. There was a Starbucks that hadn’t been there the last time Fitz had visited, and the Chinese restaurant he’d eaten many meals at was closed. His house looked the same, though, so that was a relief. The bushes and trees and flowers had grown. Fitz took a picture to send to Jemma while May got their bags.

The front door opened and his Mum ran out, straight to Fitz. They wrapped their arms around each other, clinging tight, and that’s when the tears came. “Oh, my boy,” his Mum cried, “my beautiful boy!”

“Mum.”

May had them move inside after noticing nosy Mrs. Keller peeking through the curtains from across the street. They went to the kitchen where Fitz’s Mum had tea ready for them along with a plate of Fitz’s favorite chocolate digestives. 

“You must be Agent May,” Fitz’s Mum said as she poured the tea. “I’m Ellie; it’s so nice to meet you.” May gave her a small smile as she accepted the cup handed to her.

Neither Fitz nor May were feeling very talkative after their long flight, so Ellie filled the silence, talking about the lives of various friends and neighbors while Fitz ate too many of the biscuits and May listened politely, instinctively filing away any bits of useful information Ellie shared.

“Oh, how I’ve been nattering on,” Ellie said as they finished their tea. “You two must be tired after that long flight. Leopold, you’re in your old bedroom, of course, and Agent May, you’ll be in the guest room. I’ll show you where it is.”

There were pictures lining the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Most were of Fitz as a child; some were of what May assumed were other relatives such as grandparents. May stopped to look more closely at a picture of a young Fitz, probably about 5-years-old, standing in front of a monkey enclosure at a zoo. He wore a somber expression and there was a blur around his chest.

“He was so excited to see the monkeys,” Ellie commented when she saw which picture May was looking at. “I couldn’t get him to stop flapping his hands long enough for me to take a picture.”

May gave her another small smile and they continued on to the guest room.

~*~*~*~

Fitz began taking the tea things to the sink to start washing up while Mum showed May to the guest room. One of the mugs fell from his hand and shattered on the floor. Fitz froze, staring down at the evidence of his damaged, broken body. He couldn’t even do something as simple as washing up, or get his body to move and go find the broom. He just stood there. Staring. How useless was he?

Ellie entered and took in the broken mug, and how Fitz was standing there, not moving. “Did you get stuck, love?” she asked. Fitz didn’t respond. “I’m going to bring you to your bedroom, where your weighted blanket is,” Ellie told him. She took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. Fitz laid down on his bed and she covered him with his weighted blanket. “Is that better?” Fitz still didn’t respond, so she went back to the kitchen to clean up the mug.

~*~*~*~

Fitz blinked, staring up at the ceiling. He was slowly becoming aware of what was happening around him. There was pressure on top of him. That was good. He could hear someone in the kitchen. Mum, probably. He hoped. He wasn’t sure what May would think if she saw him like this. She’d seen him have a meltdown before, but he hadn’t had a shutdown in front of her that he could remember.

He focused on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. He looked around his bedroom, eyes landing on the poster hanging on the wall across from him.  It was a picture of space. His mum had got it for his 15th birthday.  _ I’m gonna take that back to the Playground _ he decided.  _ Maybe having a bit of home there will make the change easier. _

Mum entered with a glass of water, which she placed on the bedside table next to him. “I brought you water,” she said. Fitz brought his fingertips up to his chin to say thank you. Technically he was supposed to move his hand away from his chin too, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Can I stay with you?” Mum asked. 

Fitz managed a nod. She sat down on the bed next to him and began running her fingers through his hair.

“Agent Coulson came to see me,” she told him, “after your—” she paused, trying to figure out the right word, “—injury. I wanted to come see you, or have your transferred to one of the hospitals here, but he said it was too dangerous because of the Hydra threat.” She was quiet for a moment, and Fitz closed his eyes, soothed by the feeling of her hand on his head. “I’m thankful you were able to come to me.”

_ Me too _ Fitz thought to himself. At some point over the next couple days, Fitz would talk to his mum: tell her about Simmons, and how she’d gone, and how things kept changing around him, and how frustrated he felt all the time. But for the moment, they were quiet. They just existed together in a comfortable, familiar way. They were a mother and her son. He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and for any kudos/comments! Feel free to check out my [Tumblr](http://unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot.tumblr.com)


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